Catching Lightning
by SkyVine
Summary: In power central District 5, Angelie watches her little cousin get reaped for the 32nd Annual Hunger Games. Making the choice, she volunteers to replace her. Now alone and desperate, she speeds towards the Capitol to be a Tribute with a stranger and a sympathetic Mentor. But can her stylist, the handsome Paddy, promise love? And in a game with no rules can she win? Review please!
1. Chapter 1

It starts on Reaping day.

I open the heavy cardboard box and sigh. The only things tucked inside are a few packets of brown rice, two cans of soup stock and a bag of flour. Barely enough to last the month.

Tesserae has been growing smaller for the past year, and no-one knows why.

'Angelie!' My mother calls from the other room. 'Was that the postman?'

I heave the box into my arms and carry it out of the kitchen and into our living room. My mother sits on the couch, tapping away at a keyboard on her lap, and staring with glassy blue eyes at a screen on the far wall.

'Tesserae,' I grimace in reply to her quizzical look.

'I see,' she says, folding up her keyboard and coming over to kneel beside the tesserae box I have set down. She picks up the cans and snorts, then stands to inspect my appearance.

'I'm going to change,' I say hurriedly, checking the illuminated clock on the wall. It's now half-past seven. Two hours left.

My mother smiles, a little tightly, and hugs me tightly.

'You look fine.'

I'm in my pyjamas. I raise an eyebrow at her and she laughs.

'Go on,' she says, giving me a little push towards the stairs, 'get yourself in the bath. Our daily electricity is running now and the water tank is fully heated. When you've finished I'll do your hair.'

I nod and turn around, heading upstairs. On the landing I quickly glance out the window at the gray morning outside. The streets of District 5 are lined with Peacekeepers, holding guns, their faces hidden behind their visors.

I hurry up the stairs and into our large bathroom. It's deep and spotlessly clean, so I turn the taps on full. Gushes of cold and hot water splash into the tub, a beautiful blue colour mingled with the fragrant soap I now pour in.

I undress, glancing in the mirror. My brown eyes look like black holes today, the pupils so dilated from supressed fear. My freckles stick out against my pale face and arms, and my hair hangs down my back like lank, yellowing ropes.

When the bath is ready I step in, sighing at the lovely heat of it. Our district supplies power, and lots of it, so we're never short of hot water.

For a while I just lie there, thinking. I tip water over my face and hair, rinsing it as I lather soap through the tangles and over my skin. When I get out the steam rolls off my body in great waves, making me look like some beautiful monster coming out of the sea. I wrap a towel around myself and it stops, quenched.

The dress mother laid out for me is green, short, with lace around the sleeves and neck. I pull it on with difficulty, the lace scratchy against the crook of my arm where the sleeve ends. The shoes are ankle boots with green ribbon.

There's a knock at my door.

'You okay honey?' My mother sticks her head in. I nod, feeling too sick for words.

'Oh my darling,' she sighs, coming up behind me and looking at both our reflections in my full length mirror. It strikes me how tall I am compared to her, with curves and a long neck, while she's built slightly stockier and harder. A willow and a rock.

'Do you want breakfast or will you be okay?' she asks as she brushes my hair and starts to twirl it expertly through her fingers.

'I'm not hungry,' I mumble.

She says nothing as she blow-dry's my hair. When she finishes it hangs silkily over my shoulders, slightly wavy, and making me look much older than fifteen.

A horn blows in the distance.

'Let's go,' my mother says, and leaves me to go downstairs. I take a second, looking at my reflection for one final time.

You can do this.

I nod to myself and leave the room.


	2. Chapter 2

Main square is teeming with people.  
My hand is still warm from where my mother clutched it a few moments ago, but she's gone now. I'm all alone in this sea of people.  
I line up with the other girls and pass my hand to the Peacekeeper sitting at the desk. The electric rod buzzes within my finger but I don't flinch; I'm used to shocks.  
Angelie Tennings, the name on the Peacekeeper's monitor says. She nods and mutters, 'go ahead.'  
The crowd's pushing, people are shoving, so I walk hurriedly to my space. No-one shouts or cries. We all stop moving. Stop breathing. Stop pretending.  
The victors and officials of our district file out of the Justice Building's doors. We watch them as they take their seats on the stage, the camera's showing their faces blown up on huge screens above them.  
We wait, breath held.  
'Welcome!' A Capitol woman says into a microphone. 'Welcome District 5 to the reaping of the 32nd annual Hunger Games!'  
Janine Rose smiles at the grim faces all looking up at her. Her bloated pink dress is covered in frills today, her wig curly and white like a large puff-ball. She continues, her purple-painted lips smiling rather blandly.  
'We're are here to select two members from this crowd to represent their district in a battle of honour and survival. All of the young people here are obliged to put in their name, in repence for the uprising.  
'Now without further ado, time to pick from this congregation one corageous girl and boy to represent District 5 and to travel to the Capitol.'  
She totters over to the large glass ball containing the boy's names. Her fingers delve into the sea of paper, root around for a few seconds then pull out a folded slip triumphantly.  
We all wait. My eyes are focused on that little slip. A life in her hands and she doesn't even bloody know it.  
'Ahem,' Janine coughs as her fingernails slit open the adhesive clasp.  
'Wade Baxwoll.'  
The boys all seem to let out a collective sigh. One doesn't.  
A boy of about fourteen starts to push his way through the crowd. When he gets to the clear path up the centre that leads to the stage, he's swamped by Peacekeepers. They march him to where Janine holds out her hand, a broad smile on her face.  
I turn and see an elderly woman crying into her woollen scarf. She's silent but petrified. His grandmother.  
Fifteen. The number bounces off the inside of my skull a thousand times. That's how many slips I've put in.  
'Please give a warm round of applause for our gallant male victor!'  
There's a small smattering of clapping. Wade stands there, trembling like a leaf.  
'Now for our girls,' Janine says happily. Her hand sticks itself in the bowl and comes out again, holding a name. She trots to the microphone, opens the paper, and reads the name.  
'Nutellie Tennings.'


	3. Chapter 3

What.  
The whole crowd is silent. It presses in on my ears, blocking anything from coming in or out. I feel my mouth open and something vibrate in my throat, but I hear nothing.  
A girl behind me pushes out into the clear path; no-man's land. Her fingers twist together, her long, brown hair covering her face.  
Nutellie.  
My lips are moving.  
No sound.  
The people around me, their outlines, are blurring...together...why...  
'Ell!' The scream twists itself from my core, then there is no blur and just her, crying, in my arms, too sharp in focus.  
She cries and I hold her.  
People yell.  
Hands on my arms.  
Between us.  
No.  
Oh no she won't.  
'I VOLUNTEER!'

They shove me in and the door slams. I turn and look at it. Brown oak, such a simple pattern. So I just stand there and watch it. My mind is still so shocked no coherent thoughts can drift across, so I just stand there.  
When it opens, my mother's face appears. She is as white as old milk, her eyes shining like stars, and there are fingernail marks running down her cheeks.  
She takes a few steps to close the distance and enfolds me in her arms. She smells like warmth and smoke and cherries and sugar and-  
'It'll be ok,' she whispers. I nod, because that's all I can do.  
She's shaking.  
'Why,' she chokes, 'why did you volunteer?'  
I set my face into a grim and determined one.  
'Because no-one else would have. She's twelve. She'd die.'  
My mother shudders, so I grab her shoulders tightly and stare at her. Her eyes are like a spark of electricty, bright blue and glowing. I don't have them. I have my dad's eyes...  
'Time to go,' a Peacekeeper says, pushing into the room. My mum crushes me in a hug.  
'We'll be together again,' I say. She's pulled away, tears streaming down her face, blubbing my name.  
'Don't worry,' I raise my voice, 'it'll be o-'  
The door shuts with a loud click.  
Tears well up in my eyes so I collapse onto the sofa, which is pushed against the wall, and bawl. I use a cushion to muffle my cries but I think they can still hear me.  
When I've finished, after about two minutes, the door opens again.  
Nutellie flies in and collides with me. Behind her is my best friend Trin.  
'I'm s-s-so sor-ry!' Nutellie cries. Her sobs rack painfully from her body so I wrap my arms tighter around her to surpress them. Trin watches us.  
'It's not your fault,' I manage to grab her shoulders and hold her away from me so I can look into her eyes. They're a duller blue than my mother's, but now they sparkle with tears. I wipe her cheeks with my thumbs and force my mouth to twitch at the corners.  
'This was my descision, and I stand by it.'  
Nutellie nods and sniffs. I sit her down on the sofa, then rise to look at Trin, who stares stonily back at me. Her carroty hair is spiked with gel, and her green eyes, I can see, hold a wealth of emotion that she manages to surpress.  
Without words, we take two steps each and embrace. She smells of burning, and my mind flashes back to a happier time of playing on the geology tracks downtown, messing with Daniel and Kane in the centre. A time long passed.  
'You'll be okay,' her deep voice is muffled by my hair.  
'Do me one thing?'  
'Of course.'  
I grin.  
'Make sure you ask Kane out. You two are good, and it'll make me feel better knowing you'll be happy when I go in.' A rock slides into the pit of my stomach as I say it. When I go in...  
Trin pulls back with a look of shock, but the Peacekeepers are back. They pull her and Nutellie silently away and close the door.


	4. Chapter 4

The slight hum of the train sliding along the smooth, steel tracks vibrates under my feet as Janine leads us into a luxurious reclining cart. Dark fur wallpaper absorbs the warm light glowing from the crystal chandelier, as the sky outside turns an inky blue. Couches and small coffee tables made of glass and cream leather are dotted around everywhere, like a comfortable minefield.  
'Dinner will be served in an hour,' Janine says in her annoying, nasal, Capitol-accented twang. Wade and I just nod, too stunned to do anything else.  
'Angelie, your room is just up there. Wade, darling, you room is this way on the left.'  
My room turns out to be quite nice.  
Velveteen bed covers, a large TV, a dresser full of Capitol clothes and a picture of Panem hung perfectly straight on the wall. The bathroom is complete with a high-power water system, bathtub, shower, the whole she-bang, with lovely little paper-wrapped soaps to complete the whole image.  
The window spans the whole wall. I walk up to it and lean my forehead against the cool glass, the scene before my eyes whipping away before I can drink in any details; only colours.  
A single tear tracks down my face, but I don't let it stay there. If I do, more will come and I don't want the others to think I'm weak. I rub my face roughly.  
I am not weak.

I shower, using the soap, so that when I emerge I smell subtly of Jasmine flowers. I pull on a pair of dark blue trousers that hug closely to my thin legs, and a dark green top.  
My little silver locket, my token now I guess, hangs sparkling from the wash over it. I have fifteen more minutes, so I spend it pinning up my hair in blonde coils.  
When I enter the dining cart, I see Janine, Wade and a slim man all sitting there together already. They're talking about the Capitol, explaining it to Wade. He just looks blank, his blue eyes, which nearly all of District 5 people have, looking slightly cloudy.  
'The structures are truly beautiful,' Janine says, 'and the furniture!'  
'Yes, it certainly is a sight to behold,' the man says, only a hint of sarcasm in his voice. As I take my seat, nodding my greetings to them, I study him carefully. He's tall, with ash-coloured hair, brown just tickling the roots and ends. His face is deep and lined, like someone carved grooves in it with a knife, but he doesn't look old at all, and certainly doesn't sound it. His eyes are brown, like mine, but more solid. Where mine had gold flecks in the iris, his are as hard set and single-coloured as chocolate.  
'Angrem Shirt,' he offers me his hand, and after a slight hesitation I shake it.  
'Hi.'  
'You're Angelie Tennings, am I right? The volunteer?'  
'Yes. You weren't at the Reaping?'  
'No, I had some Capitol business to attend to I'm afraid. I did see it Live though. Fantastic, fantastic...' He trails off.  
Our dinner comprises of several courses; for starters, crispy slices of bread topped with raw fish and sauce, then a rack of sweet tasting ribs and oiled salad, and then a cheeseboard and crackers followed by a large chocolate ganache. By the end I am licking my fingers and my body is feeling exceptionally better.  
'Well that was delectable,' Janine says happily as she dabs at her purple lips with a napkin. 'Shall we retreat to the drawing cart and watch the Live previews?'  
So there we sat for another hour, watching the recap of all the reapings across Panem. Only a few notable tributes stood out in my mind, the biggest and the scariest; a white- haired girl for 1 who could have survived even the toughest shocks back hone, a boy from 3 who loomed over his peers and had arms the size of tree trunks, the girl and boy from 4, then us. I watch as Wade is called, his coppery hair shining in the sun. Then Nutellie, walking up, and me fighting my way forwards to take her place. Me in my lacy green dress, on the stage. Me shaking hands with Wade and walking into the Justice building, then it's over.  
District 6, 7, a small girl no older than Nutellie in 8, 9, 10, 11, then two raggedy-looking kids from 12, then it's over.  
Quickly, because I feel it starting in the pit of my stomach, I bid goodnight to Janine, Wade and Angrem, then run to my room. I barely make it in time to shut the door and bury my face in a pillow before the scream unroots itself from it's hold in my lungs to my mouth.  
I scream until I'm hoarse. Then I lie in silence.  
The train gently rocks me like my grandmother's old chair, and soon enough I fall asleep, wrapped in my blankets and still in my clothes, the locket cold against my chest.


	5. Chapter 5

I dream of home. The misty mornings, my mother's pancakes and rolls, playing with Trin down by the power lines when we were young, working in the stations when we were older. District 5 citizens started proper work the day they turned eighteen, converting energy into electricity with motors in the power stations, but the younger teenagers were still employed for the little jobs. The energy demand of the Capitol and other districts was so high, that we were always on our feet to keep Panem running.

When Nutellie was born, I remember the joy it brought to us, but the quiet trepidation it brought to everyone else. Children weren't rare, and meant more space and food used up. We were lucky, my mother and I. We shared a combo house with only one other family, and a decrepit old-lady named Mrs Flick. Others weren't as fortunate. Population was so high that most lived in cramped houses and blocks, like Daniel and his three siblings and parents. The richest lived alone. The rest had to learn to get along.

When my father died, after we'd travelled to the Justice Building and received his will, belongings and certificate of work commemoration, they relocated us from the house we shared with Trin, her family, Kane and his grandmother, Mr and Mrs Spark and their kids, into the beautiful apartment block downtown. That was five years ago. They put us there to help recover. Apparently miserable workers didn't work effectively enough.

Kane and Daniel had been great, bringing us food and gifts they'd managed to scrounge. Trin and her mother offered us company, which was more valuable to us than anything.

I missed them.

Daniel, his tawny hair and brown eyes like mine, the beautiful boy who nearly everyone in school adored, girls falling at his feet. Kane, the dark-skinned and buff rebel, who worked nonstop to keep his grandmother going.

I loved them to death, me and Trin alike. She had always had a crush on Kane, but never said anything at all. One of the only consolations I'll have when I go into the arena is that they might find love.

I dream of them all. Nutellie, Trin, Daniel, Kane, my mother, Mrs Flick, my father...

'Good morning!' Janine calls from the other side of the door, 'we've got a big day ahead of us!'

My eyes crack open. My tongue feels like a rock in my mouth, and my lips are dry and sore. My eyes are red and itchy from crying in my sleep, and my pillow is damp.

Get up, I tell myself. I grudgingly obey.

Shower.

I do, using the Jasmine soap again.

Clean your teeth.

Wash you face.

Get dressed, I pick out a muslin white dress, the sleeves coming down to my wrists and the neckline, not plunging exactly, but enough to make me feel free. Which, ironically, is exactly the opposite of what I am.

Lace up my brown ankle boots, brush my hair, and time for breakfast.

I make my way to the dining car, watching the world outside. The bare landscape that surrounds 5 is gone, to be replaced with rocky fields and mountains looming before us. The sky is a steely grey, not a cloud in sight.

Angrem is alone at the table, rifling through a notebook with a slightly grim expression on his face. He looks up when I enter and smiles.

'Good morning Angelie,' he offers me a chair and I take it. The table is laden with food, iced fruit in silver bowls, bread rolls still warm in baskets, croissants, pastries, large pots of coffee and something pinky brown that smells sweet and sensuous, orange juice in crystal glasses, just about anything you could name. I don't wait to be asked. I fill my plate with a bit of everything and gorge myself. Through stuffing my face, I hear Angrem chuckle.

Wade and Janine join us, and start to eat. When I've eaten so much I feel like my stomach is about to split, I lean back in my chair and see Angrem watching me.

'As your mentor,' he says, which surprises me a little before I shake myself. Of course he's our mentor, who else would he be. 'I'm going to give you some advice. To survive in these games, you'll have to think. It's all well and good to grab a weapon and kill any living thing you come across, but the one weapon that is indispensable to your survival is the one you carry everywhere,' he taps his temple with a finger. Me and Wade nod silently.

Angrem pours us both a mug of the pinky brown liquid.

'Drink this, it's good. Now, when it comes to sponsors-'

'What is it?' Wade asks. It strikes me that it's the first time I've ever heard him speak. I always saw him as a timid fourteen year-old, someone I sometimes glimpsed at school, but who never associated with me or my friends or people in general.

'Hot chocolate,' Janine says, her lips twitching a little.

I wrap my hands around the warm mug and take a sip. It's beautifully sweet and mellow and slightly bitter at the same time, and I don't do anything until I've drained my mug right to the dregs of cocoa at the bottom. I've never tried chocolate before, and I'm glad I have before I die. Which seems to be sooner than I'd hoped...

'As I was saying, sponsors are your lifeline in the games. They can supply you with something that could be the difference between life and death.' He says the two words harshly.

Me and Wade exchange a glance, but look quickly away.

'You'll have to show them you're a prime contender, someone to be reckoned with,' Angrem says, picking up a knife and buttering a slice of toast. Suddenly, he jabs it at me.

'You. What's your strength?'

'I-' I think quickly. What are my strengths? What am I good at? Well that's easy-

'Darts,' I say reflexively. It's true, target hitting was what my father and I did in our spare time. 'But I don't see how that's going to help-'

'Here,' Angrem tosses the knife to me. I catch it and study it; a simple, silver butter-knife, slick with jam.

'Throw it.'

Janine gives a little squeal of indignation but I don't hesitate.

As fast as I can, I whirl in my chair to my feet, raise the knife over my head and chuck it. It spins in midair and hits the dead centre of a wood panel.

'Good, good.' Angrem seems pleased, 'targets, darts, archery, especially knife throwing seem to be your thing. You?' He looks at Wade, who looks slightly abashed and, if possible, annoyed.

'I dunno,' he says gruffly, shrugging his thin shoulders.

'Javelin,' I say without thinking. He cuts me a look, but I continue, 'he won the school tournament three years in a row. And he can run for ages.'

'So long distance and javelin, very nice,' Angrem smiles slyly, 'and you two seem to have some brains in your skulls at least. That's good, I can work with that.'

Outside, the windows go dark. The lamps in the car flicker on after a split second.

'Nothing to worry about,' Janine chimes after she sees our shocked faces, 'we're under the mountain. When we come out the other side, we'll be in the Capitol.'

The Capitol. The name strikes fear and excitement in my heart.

'Quickly then,' Angrem leans forward and stares at us with his hard eyes, 'do NOT tell anyone what you can do. Secrecy and the element of surprise is vital for your survival. Do you understand.'

I feel slightly cold at the look he's giving me.

'Yes.'

'Fantastic. Now when we get there you will be turned right over to your stylists who will prepare you for this evening. Trust them- they're good people, and will help you look the best you can.'

Stylists to make us look pretty. It made sense- the best-looking tributes did usually get the most sponsors and stayed alive the longest as a result- but it didn't mean I was particularly thrilled about it. Even now I'm starting to feel the slight stiffness in my head and limbs that means stage fright.

Suddenly the lamps switch off and the window light up as we come out of the mountain. I gasp, stumbling from my chair to the window, gaping at the outside world. Wade appears beside me, and together we watch the Capitol; a true beauty of glittering towers, glass buildings and snowy White mansions, a glorious blue river running through it. As our train swerves along the tracks into the city, I see lush green gardens and people walking together with different coloured clothes and hair. Screens flash at every corner, huge things that obviously require a great deal of power, showing adverts for different things; toothpaste, hair products, then:

Watch the 32nd Annual Hunger Games this year! Head Gamemaker Elefun Bardweather promises, "it will be a show you'll never forget!"

I swallow against the lump in my throat. I certainly won't ever forget it.

The train slides noiselessly into a modern train station and starts to slow. Outside our window, hundreds of Capitol people have come to greet us, whistling and cheering.

I look at Wade and he looks at me.

Make them love you.

I turn to the window, put on my most winning smile and start to wave.


End file.
